Page:Poems by Ellen Russell Emerson.djvu/17

And one sweet robin here had built
Her nest, just to her robin taste,
For all of three successive springs,
Nor never by a foe been traced ;

And sometimes a vagrant sheltered him
From noontide heat beneath the shade,
The while he took his beggar’s meal,
And thanked the Lord he had no trade.

He loves the sun, and air, and rain,
And takes them right from Nature’s hand,
And hates the sight of work or pain,
But cordially feels he owns the land !

u Now stand aside, my boys,” then cried
The farmer Ross, “ its heart’s laid bare
“ One blow more, one, and then it falls,”
They cried, — the blow was struck with care,

Down went the tree, prone and headlong ;
Afar off stood pale Agatha Ross
With dreadful eyes that looked at them
As if her soul was crushed on a cross.